The Desert Rogue
by liten-kiddo
Summary: Lianne is the second princess of Tortall. Her father, King Jonathan, has requested that she marry a man from the north, but in a last attempt to escape her impending marriage she heads south where she is kidnapped. What happens to her in the desert will change Lianne, and Tortall itself, forever.
1. Chapter 1

This has been festering in my brain for a few days. If I've messed up any times, dates, or names I'm sorry. I haven't read the books in a long time so this might be a little rusty!

-K.

* * *

"With all due respect, I feel that I should refrain from making any promises about what I will or will not do."

Lianne of Conte was standing at her window, staring out towards the royal forest. She had lost the fight with her older brothers on who would get the rooms that looked over the city when Roald had moved into his own area of the wing when he and Shinko were married. She plucked at her lip with her teeth, staring out at the view she had once hated but come to love.

"It's important that we secure our alliance with Vomine." King Jonathan of Tortall was staring at his second youngest child, waiting for her to meet his gaze.

Vomine was a large country even further north than Scanra and it spanned from the Emerald Ocean to the Roof of the World.

"I know," Lianne glanced back and then turned her attention back to the forest. "But I don't want to marry him."

The King sighed into his hands. "Why not?"

"Well he's old, for one, and he isn't rumored to be the most pleasant man in the world."

Jonathan shifted in the chair, choosing his words carefully. "He isn't that old, dear."

"Thirty-four is old for someone as young as me. I won't be happy in Vomine. I'll have no friends, no one to speak to," She shook her head and looked at her mother, who was staring into the fireplace as if the ashes were the ones talking. "I have no desire to be a queen."

"You were born to be a queen, Li."

Lianne's anger sparked. She stared down her father without any hesitation. "No. I refuse to go."

"Well," The king sighed and stood, holding a hand out to assist his wife to her feet. "Like your sisters before you, you will fulfill your royal duties. You cannot sit in this room your entire life hoping to be someone you're not."

"I won't go."

Jonathan glared, finally losing his temper with his daughter. This was the third time they had discussed her marriage and she still refused to cooperate. "If you do not go willingly I will have all the companies of the Own bind you and drag you there. You will marry Wolthren, King of Vomine for Tortall." He turned and stalked out, his composure shaken.

"Only you could upset your father so easily." Thayet stood gracefully and kissed her daughter on her forehead, following her husband out the chamber door. "Think about what he said, Lianne. It would be easier if you went willingly. You could learn to love… Maybe not love, but respect any man. I know what kind of person you are."

"I will never agree to leave Tortall." Lianne crossed her arms over her chest and stood her ground, her face set in a stony glare.

Queen Thayet shook her head and closed the door behind her, stepping out into the hallway and towards the large, callused hand that awaited her to drag her to the body it belonged to.

"She's impossible." Jon growled, one hand covering his face.

Thayet embraced her husband. "She's just as stubborn as you are, but she'll come around to the idea. Lianne has never had to do anything before and she isn't used to things being demanded of her." She began to walk down the hall with Jon. "I think we may have spoiled her."

"Spoiled or not, we need her to make this work. Come, my heart, I have some free time before I meet with the tribes." He murmured as he swept toward their bedroom.

* * *

Lianne paced around her room; angry with her father, her mother, and most of all with herself. She had allowed herself to become trapped in a position just as her sister had. If she had been smarter she would have insisted on training to become a knight or even joining the Riders. Both of those dreams had been squashed after her ninth birthday and her accident. Riders and knights were not scared of riding horses. She shuddered at the memory and flopped down in the chair that her father had jus vacated.

"Stupid," She muttered to herself, her head in her hands. She met her gaze I the floor-length mirror that was fastened to her wall and inspected what she saw.

A young girl, no older than sixteen stared back. She had coal-black hair, from one or both parents, that framed her face and softened her strong nose that was straight and almost too large for her delicate mouth and eyes. She was the only child of the Conte line that had not inherited her father's brilliant blue eyes, instead gaining her mother's hazel gaze. Though she had so many of her mother's features, she was in no way as breathtaking as the queen. Beautiful maybe, but still a shadow compared to her sisters and the rest of her family. They were all regal, tall, and proud. They had an authority that people reacted to and caused them to listen when they spoke. They could command a room full of people with a simple speech. They were of royal descent and bled the fact.

Lianne was shorter than all her siblings, and tended to blend into the background. Roald was the heir to the throne, Kalasin had always been considered the beauty after her mother, Liam the valiant knight, who was known for his talent with the sword, Jasson the warrior, already proving himself an asset to the kingdom, and the youngest, Vania, who was happily married to a suitable husband from her mother's own country. Lianne had often wondered where this left her. She had always been the odd-bird in her family, hazel-eyed and without skills that would allow her to wield a sword. She had not even inherited the Gift that was so prevalent in her lineage.

The girl staring back at her cocked an eyebrow. What good was she to her parents? To her kingdom? The only purpose she could serve was to marry an enemy country's king and bring peace and order to save the lives of the knights and soldiers that had loyally pledged their lives to defending Tortall.

She rose as gracefully as she could and brushed off her brown breeches and loose-fitting white shirt. Before her father had approached her to talk she had been practicing her archery skills with the Riders. A pang of sadness hit her when she realized once she moved to Vomine and married Wolthren he may never let her pick up a bow again. She squelched the panic that rose in her chest and snagged her bow from when she had set it, determined not to think about marriage for the rest of the day.

* * *

Lianne pushed the little green spring around her plate, ignoring her father's words about the Kingdom and her happiness and his pride. It did little to sooth her frazzled nerves about her impending marriage. Two weeks after their last conversation the talks had gone though and she was to be moved north to Vomine by Midwinter. It was already the end of summer.

"Of course we will be sending her with her maids," Jon was talking to her Uncle Gary, who was deeply interested in the conversation at hand as well as the giant deer steak on his plate. "We're also in talks about a few noble women who could also accompany her. Perhaps the youngest girl of Kings Reach could go with her? As I recall she is almost finished with her studies…"

Lianne tuned out of the conversation, trying to quell her heart thundering in her ears. Her head pounded, her lungs stopped pumping air, and the walls began to bend and waver. All the panic that she had been ignoring for weeks rose up and threatened to choke her.

_Run. _The panic demanded of her. _Fly from here, you don't belong here. Go. Run! _

"I need to go to Carthak!" She spat out and suddenly the panic stopped, the walls snapped back into their regular shapes. "Please," She said in a softer, gentler tone. "Please let me go visit Kally one more time."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Jon began, but a pleading look from Thayet silenced him. "We'll discuss it after we eat." He shook his head and turned back to Gary, who shot her a questioning look.

She ignored her Uncle's stare and focused back on her food, which she could no longer eat. She could feel her mother's pained eyes boring into the side of her head.

Poor Mama_, _she thought gently, slipping the slivers of eat off her plate to the waiting dogs under the table.

* * *

Scant days later Lianne was watching her brother Liam check the straps of his horse's saddle to make sure that they were secure. His horse, Victory, was a large animal, dark grey with a white mane and tail. Victory was the kid of horse that bards sang about in their heroic ballads, and Liam was fit to be part of those songs as well. He was identical to their father, but years younger and a few inches taller. He would be her protector on their long ride to the port.

"It'll be good for you to see Kally again." He told her as he moved to check the saddle her pony was wearing.

"I know," Lianne whispered, letting Victory nudge her with his giant head and tried not to shift away.

Since her accident she was unable to ride anything but a pony, for fear of being thrown.

Liam finished inspecting the straps and held her pony for her while she swung into the saddle. "That's a good girl, Violet." He patted the old pony and mounted his horse. "Alright men, off we go." He nudged his horse into a quick walk and Lianne fell in behind him, the rest of their riding party falling in behind her. With them traveled ten of the King's Own for protection.

Lianne turned around in her saddle, careful to keep her boots firmly in the stirrups as she looked behind her. Her mother was standing at the gate, her eyes dark and sleepless while her father held her, his hand raised in a silent goodbye.

She gave a small smile and a wave before turning back around. She would only be gone a month and then she would spend time with them before her departure to Vomine. She shook her head. She couldn't remember either of her sisters having such a somber farewell before their marriages'.

_Maybe it's because they know I'll be miserable. _She thought as Violet tottered to keep up with the horses the men rode. _Or maybe it's because they know when you leave you'll never come back. _The sinister thought whipped through her head before she was able to banish it and she swallowed hard. These sorts of ideas had plagued her recently, especially when she was alone, telling her to go saddle her pony, to pick up her bow, to go to the Royal forest. For the most part she was able to ignore them, but they still persisted, chipping away at her sanity like hammers chipping away at rock.

"I'll be fine," She told herself, giving Violet a loving pat.

"What's wrong now?" Liam called back.

"Nothing!" Lianne shouted quietly and falsely cheerful. "Just excited to see Kally's baby."

"Don't speak of such things. I can't stand the thought of my sister participating in marital acts." Liam shuddered in his saddle and the other men chuckled softly. Those who had sisters scowled.

"Even if she's married?"

"Even so."

Lianne was unable to reply, too choked up by the thought of her impeding marriage and what marital acts her future husband would require of her.

The small trope rode for a few days at a steady pace no faster than a brisk trot to reach the port. They wore plainclothes and relied on Honu, a mage in the Own from the Yamani Islands, to protect them. If need came to they would fight, but since the war in Scanra they had learned that to slip undetected was usually much easier and required fewer men and less bloodshed. The trip was jovial and the siblings jostled one another and teased each other and the men. The ride was easy and the most fun Lianne had had in weeks.

They were only week's ride away from the port when it hit them. One morning unseasonably cool air blew in from the North and brought low, dark clouds with it. By midmorning the riders were beginning to feel slow and sleepy, like they were traveling through deep water. Their joints became stiff and Lianne could feel her fingers that were gripping the reins going numb. They pressed on until Honu gasped and slid off his horse, rubbing his eyes furiously.

"Magic," Liam said softly, staring at her in bewilderment before he slid from his saddle.

"No!" Lianne cried, but even to her ears it was barely a whisper. She tried to kick Violet into a trot but her legs wouldn't work.

Then men from the Own all slumped in their saddles or fell off their mounts.

"Goddess," She whispered and heard the muffled sound of hoof beats behind her before the darkness overtook her.


	2. The Three Men

Thank you for reading. xx

* * *

Lianne could feel her feet bumping against something warm and damp.

"Bugger. Fakhar, Fynn, the creature is coming back to life. Do something to her, quick!" The large form holding her had a deep voice that reverberated through her body.

Lianne could feel his grip tighten as she tried to wiggle her way free of her restraints. She had been wrapped in a blanket and bundled against the man's chest like an infant.

"Let me go," She croaked softly, her throat as dry as the desert itself.

"How long has she been awake?" A lighter, masculine voice demanded as hands closed on her arms and legs, pulling her away from the deep voice.

"Why did we even take her? This was a fool's own idea, I tell you." A third voice came from directly beside Lianne's ear, causing her to thrash away.

"In case you have forgotten, I am that fool."

Lianne pushed her way from the blanket, wiggling like a caterpillar from its cocoon. If she could only get her arms free then she could figure out how to get her legs free and run.

"Bugger the both of you, do something before she starts crying." The deep voice quieted them both and Lianne fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Lianne could hear the crackle of the fire beside her and feel the warmth on her face. She opened her eyes slowly, checking to make sure that none of the voices from before were looking at her.

"We'll ride to the midway point and go south to the market and find something for her to wear so she won't look so odd. She can't just go around in northern clothes and a horse blanket."

"I still think we should just take her back to the main road and leave her. This is a bad idea."

"We can't leave her in the road. Who knows what kind of group would pick her up? We already have her, let's just keep going. In less than six days we can be back to camp and safe."

"Aye we can't leave the poor thing, but we should find out more about her. Don't need to be ridin' around the hillside with some nobleman's daughter and a bounty on our skulls." Lianne perked up, recognizing the voice that had carried her. He had the oddest accent that over-exaggerated his vowels even more than a commoners'.

She blinked quickly, getting the sleep out of her eyes. It was dark enough that they wouldn't be able to see her from the position they were sitting in around the fire. She flexed her toes and her calves, trying to work the knots out of her stiff muscles.

How long had she been asleep? Hours? Days, even?

"I don't think she's noble, too few guards."

"Aye but Tortall ain't like the desert here, is it? It's a strange place compared to up north, too." The giant picked up a piece of wood and tossed it into the fire, causing sparks to dance.

Lianne pulled an arm from her wraps and began to pick at the ties that held her in the blanket. If she was unable to escape, maybe someone would see the fire and approach them. Then she could explain who she was and how they had taken her.

She stopped picking at the ropes, hands shaking. Liam. What had they done to him?

"I think that one with her was a knight, yeah?"

"Maybe, there's no way to be sure since they didn't carry shields or wear any colors. Scully maid or cousin of the king, we need to get to Goran and the market. We can disguise her there and go." The man sitting furthest away from her said and the other two said nothing in reply. He was probably the leader of the group.

Lianne tugged at the second rope and felt it loosen considerably. Thankfully she had learned knots from her summers spent at Pirates Swoop. Her days spent in the sun on the walkway practicing had ruined her milky skin, but may yet save her life.

"Did it just move?" The giant's voice boomed next to her and she froze.

"Probably jus twitching in her sleep, Emil. I wouldn't worry about her. She'll be out until midmorning." The leader laid back and sliced the air with his hand, causing the fire to die down. "Get some sleep though; you're going to need it."

Lianne waited until the other two had settled down for the night before she began to wiggle her feet from their bindings. She moved carefully, minding the sleeping forms that surrounded her. The giant was to her right, and a considerably smaller man was sleeping on her left. She figured he must have been the one that suggested they leave her in the desert.

After an hour of tedious work her feet were free. She peeled off the blanket and shifted to her knees, wincing as they creaked and burned. The sky was clear and cloudless but the night was getting cold without the fire or blanket. Surely, she thought, civilization was not so far off that she could get there before dawn.

In a moment of extreme bravery she stood and stepped carefully past the giant, who was snoring, and could see that he wasn't a true giant, but only looked it from her position on the ground. Shaking her head she dodged his tree-limb arms carefully. He must have been at least as big as Raoul, if not bigger.

"No, I don't think so."

Lianne yelped and was swept off her feet and felt her head hit the sand, briefly thankful it wasn't stone like the roads in Tortall, before she began to struggle wildly.

"Let me go, you bastard!" She swung her other leg that wasn't being held and felt it connect with something solid.

"Feisty little bugger," The giant at up and pulled her to him, securing her easily. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pushing in on his jaw. "I think you almost dislocated my jaw, Princess. How long you been trying to escape for?"

"Emil, stop goading her." The leader stood up and strode quickly over to them. "Go back to sleep." He demanded, staring into her eyes.

Lianne stopped thrashing. She had been trying everything she had been taught to escape the hold the man named Emil had on her.

"Sleep." The man with the grey eyes demanded, and she did.

* * *

The second time Lianne awoke it was in a small room and the sun in the window was begging to dip into the hills of sand. The room around her was simple. There were two beds and a pallet on the floor that she had been sleeping on. There was only one window, without curtains or bars, but from the angle of the view she guessed it would be impossibly high to jump or climb down from. There was a small fireplace and next to that a door which she assumed lead into the hallway.

The fear that had crept into the edges of her dreams finally came to her. She did not know where she was, who she was with, or their plans for her. She had no idea if Liam or any of the men who she had rode with were alive and had gotten message back to court. She didn't even know if people were coming for her.

For the first time in her seventeen years of life, Lianne felt completely alone.

She choked back sobs and sat up, immediately regretting it. The simple room swam and the sun outside began to stretch and bloom like a flower in springtime. Thankfully she had not eaten in perhaps days, and there was nothing for her to vomit except bile.

"Goddess, no," She whispered, holding herself up on her knees and clutching her cramping stomach with one hand.

"You're hungry." The man with the grey eyes opened the door behind her and walked into the tidy room, holding a sack in his hand. "The sleep you had tends to make those who are not used to it ill for a few days."

"Oi, Princess, you are even more gorgeous than I can remember." The large man followed the other in, banging the door shut behind him. He too carried a sack, but this one was much larger. He smiled as she continued to dry heave on the floor.

"I'm not a prin-" She began, but the convulsions racked her body.

"Then why don' you tell us who you are." He sat down on one of the beds and the wood creaked ominously.

He was as large as she had previously thought, probably part bear, or maybe even ox. His hair was blond and cropped around his chin, but littered with brown streaks. His eyes were brown, but perfectly round and large. He had a strong jaw and forehead, but his nose was delicate and his mouth full. He was clearly of mixed origins, unlike his companions.

The man with the gray eyes was tall, but lither than the large man. He had broad shoulders and a sword belted around his waist. His hair was blacker than hers even, tied away from his face so she was unable to determine the length, but he looked as if it would be quite short as well. He had the distinct characteristics of a Bazhir, but his grey eyes against his tan skin unnerved her to no end.

"Here, take this." He bent down next to her and handed her a piece of bread, still fresh from baking.

Lianne pushed herself back onto her pallet and sat, waiting for the nausea to subside before tenderly reaching for the bread. "You're Bazhir?" She tried, tearing off a small piece of the bread with shaky hands.

"Something like that," The man murmured as he watched her eat the bread with his unusual eyes. "What is your name, girl?"

"Mae," The lie rolled off her tongue easily. She had been lying about her name for years in order to blend in and make friends. "Mae Fetch." She focused deeply on the bread and heard the man sigh.

"A commoner, then?" The relief in his voice was evident. He had not wanted a nobleman's daughter.

Lianne winced, but didn't sway. They hadn't done anything too terrible to her yet. If they had planned to rape her they would have done that already. They might intend to sell her, but she would have to wait to find out. If they were slave runners then they would be hung by Tortall's law.

"Yes," She picked another piece off the bread and chewed slowly. "From the city, of course. I lived right beside the tanner."

"I see," The man stood up again and stared at the door for a second.

"Late to the party, Fawky." The large man said to the newcomer, who slid through the door.

"Don't call me that." The man called Fawky crossed the room and stood beside the grey-eyed man.

They could have been related, both Bazhir and with similar noses and mouths, but the new man's eyes were black and stony. He was also a half head shorter than the other man.

"Fine, fine," The giant rose from his seat and the chair seemed to bend back to its normal shape. "I'm Emil. And that is Fawky, wait, sorry, Fakhar," He grinned and the other man scowled. "And Fynil-"

"'Fynn' will do just fine." The grey-eyed man interrupted him curtly and motioned for the large bag to be brought over.

"I appreciate your kindness, but may I ask what you plan to do with me? I have a father that will want me back and if you let me go now then knowing only your first names will be a benefit to you." Lianne finished her bread and looked up at the three men surrounding her pallet.

"Aye, thank you Princess, but from what I hear you're goin' to be around for awhile. Might as well know what to call us, right?" Emil dropped the bag and pulled a knife from his belt with a small smile, as if he was ashamed of himself.

"What are you doing?" The panic rose into Lianne's throat and her veins chilled.

"Strip her." Fynn commanded, and Emil handed him the knife.

She screamed, "Don't you dare!" before Emil clapped a hand over her mouth and deftly raised her from the ground.

Lianne thrashed, lashing out with her arms and legs. She tried desperately to knock her head into something of his that would cause him to hurt, but he stood like as still as a rock as Fakhar and Fynn cut the tunic away from her body, followed by her breeches. Her heart slammed in her chest as she was held, startled and angry.

Did they mean to rape her after all?

Once she was dressed only in her breastband and loincloth did they stop. Fynn reached down to the large bag and pulled various items from it. There were a pair of sand-colored breeches and a loose white shirt that could have been roughly her size. The men quickly learned it would be much harder getting her into her new clothes than it had been getting her out of her old ones.

"Bugger," Emil pulled her arms out one at a time so they could put them through the sleeves, but was careful to keep his hand over her mouth. "You'd think she wanted to be naked."

The clothes on, Emil felt her relax and took his hand from her mouth. Lianne snarled and coughed, unable to make any other noise.

"Turn her around, Emil. I need to finish this quickly so we may get moving." Fynn held the knife still and Lianne thrashed as she was spun to face Emil's chest.

"Mithros! Hurry the little thing is biting me!"

Fynn said nothing as he pulled her tousled braid out of the back of her shirt, holding it taught. "I'm sorry," He said, then ran the knife across the rope of hair, letting it fall.

It wasn't the kidnapping, or being drugged, or magiced, or stripped that had caused her to finally break, but her long, thick hair being cut off was the reason she burst into tears.

"Of course, now she's crying." Emil spun her back around and sat her on the chair so Fynn could finish cutting the sections of hair he had missed.

Emil pulled his shirt up and looked down at his chest.

"She broke the skin!"

"Stop complaining." Fakhar sneered and shifted uncomfortably as Lianne sniffled and stared at the braid laying on the piled of clothes she had once worn.

It finally dawned on her what they were doing. They didn't plan to rape her or sell her into the slave trade; they were disguising her as a man!


	3. Traveling

Hey guys, sorry it's taken so long to update. I'm trying to wiggle around some story issues. This should be the last boring(ish) chapter so heads up!

* * *

Lianne sat against the wall, furious with her captors and herself. They had chosen to stay the night in the dingy little inn, but had insisted on sharing one room so the pallet had been taken by the man who they called Fakhar.

The floor in the inn was cold and slightly damp from the night air coming through the window, and Li thought longingly of the nights she spent curled up in her bed with the shutters open, staring at the moon over the forest that butted up against the castle. She missed her room, her bed, her parents, and her life as she knew it.

Even if she could escape she would be marred, known as the girl who was taken. The rumors would fly and make her life miserable. Who knew who the court gossips would choose to be the father responsible for her non-existent child? Perhaps a dirty highway-man, or even a traveling bard if they were feeling generous. Then when she turned out to be without child there would be talk of disposing of an unwanted pregnancy through family magic.

The court gossip was never cruel within her parent's earshot and never kind outside of it. Many men and women had been known to have been ruined by scandal, whether it had been true or not.

Lianne pressed her face into her bound wrists and rubbed at her eyes, trying not to make any noise that would wake her captors. It had already been a tense day among the men and she didn't want to make it worse and ruin any chance she might have to exploit their trust or good-feelings towards her.

Fynn stared down at the girl from his chair in the corner, careful to keep the hood pulled around his face. She was an interesting creature, this girl. Not like any of the other women he knew, this one was sturdy and sharp on the outside, but inside she was a mess of thoughts and feelings and life. He could not place her story either. She had told them she was a commoner, but her mannerisms and vocabulary told him otherwise. She was important to someone. Taking her had been a risk he was unwilling to take at first, but the Life inside him pulled him to her until he had bent to its will and snatched her away from the life she had once known.

He bent forward as she slumped back over against the wall, finally falling back asleep. He sighed in relief and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off as well. They had a long way to go the next morning and he didn't want to take the trip on little sleep. The girl and her problems could wait until morning.

* * *

"Up and at 'em Princess," Emil beamed down at her and waved a wooden bowl in front of her face. "Its breakfast time. My specialty," He sat the bowl in her hands and swooped back towards the wooden rack that had served as a shelf for their packs.

Li blinked down at her wrists, amused to see that they were already free from their restraints and picked up the spoon and popped it in her mouth before she realized what she had done.

"Mithros," She stuck her tongue out, letting the goopy mush fall back into the bowl. "What is _this_?"

"Porridge." He told her, picking up a sword that was almost as long as she was and belting it across his waist. "And I suggest you eat it. No royal treatment for anyone on this trip."

She winced as his jab at her came so close to the truth about her life in Tortall and picked the spoon back up. "I didn't mean you any disrespect."

"Of course you did, otherwise you wouldn't have said anything." He smiled cheerfully and began rolling up the sleeping mat he had used the night before.

Lianne ignored his comment and shoveled down the porridge, watching him with a careful eye. For someone as large as he was he made no noise when he moved and his muscles bulged under the shirt he wore. His chest was broad and his hands and arms showed signs of hard work. The sword at his hip would be a swift deterrent for anyone foolish enough to mess with him, but Lianne felt he would be just as dangerous without it.

"Emil is she awake yet?" The nasally voice floated through the door and Fakhar appeared shortly after, his permanent scowl pasted on his face. "Oh, there she is."

"Where else would she be? I've been keepin' a close watch on our girl." Emil stood, carrying all three packs with ease.

Fakhar snorted and spun around taking his bag from the other man and strode out of the room.

"I get the feeling he doesn't like me so much." Li mumbled around a mouthful of porridge.

Emil snorted and motioned for her to put the bowl by the hearth. "He doesn't like much of anyone, Princess. Don' let him get to you, though. These Bazhir folk need time to adjust to things. They aren't all there." He tapped on his head solemnly as Fynn entered the room.

"Thank you for slandering the name of my people." Fynn murmured, quirking one eyebrow at the grinning man before turning to Li. "Mae, if you're ready we have a long way to go."

"How long?" She asked, trying to choke back the panic within. She would be going even further into the desert and away from her home.

"You'll see." Fynn took his own pack from Emil and motioned for her to stand and go through the door.

Li stood carefully and slowly, not wanting to fall on her shaky legs. She had decided during the night to be as cooperative as possible and try to stay on their good side. She had no idea why they had taken her or where she was going. She only hoped that one of her father's spies would locate her before it was too late. Her hopes of them speaking to the Voice had already been dashed when they settled down immediately after supper and seemingly fell asleep. Rescue would not come through that channel of contact.

"Quietly now," Fynn whispered to her, carefully directing her toward the stair and to the stable without touching her.

Lianne nodded, being as quiet as she possibly could. She knew if she screamed that they would only drag her from the inn and possibly kill her and whoever was unlucky enough to see what the commotion was about.

Fynn padded behind her, swiftly getting them from the building to the waiting horses the stood with Fakhar. Lianne jumped when she heard his soft voice in her ear.

"We didn't get a chance to find you a horse. For now you will ride with one of us and switch off when the horse gets tired of carrying two riders. I can't imagine you weigh that much but even a few pounds becomes heavy after so many hours." Fynn tied his pack onto the dust-colored horse and offered her his hand.

Lianne balked, feeling the terror rise up inside her throat and her knees began to shake. "I can't," She whispered, shaking her head.

"Of course you can, give me your foot and ill boost you up. Quall is a strong horse; he will have no trouble carrying us both."

"No, I just… can't." Lianne stepped back, only to knock into Emil's chest.

"Get on the horse."

When she didn't move, Emil sighed and shook his head at Fynn, who jumped onto the horse easily. "I'm sorry." He put his hands around her waist and with little effort threw her into the saddle in front of Fynn, who caught her wiggling form and placed a cool hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down," He commanded. "You're making my horse nervous, and when he gets nervous he'll throw us."

Lianne stopped thrashing and sat perfectly still in the saddle, trying not to brush against Fynn or annoy Quall too much. A sense of relief came over her and she almost forgot where she was.

"Good, now let's move before it gets too light." Fynn pressed his knees into the horse's sides and they took off at a fast walk, quiet but eager to be back on the road.

Emil settled onto a bay mare, bigger than the one Fynn was riding by far, but still bony looking compared to the war horses Li was used to seeing knight's ride. Fakhar was on a chestnut mare on Fynn's left, carefully scanning the dark road in front of them.

They made their way out of the city at a decent pace. Li watched the sky getting lighter as their horses moved away from civilization and into the untamed, endless desert in front of them.

_Yes, _Lianne shuddered as the voice that had tormented her purred into her ear. _Yes, you finally get it. _

At first Li was uncomfortable, sitting so stiffly in the saddle that she felt every bump in the road, but then relaxed into Quall's gait and wrapped her hands in the horse's mane to anchor herself. She was happy that they used little more than padded blankets as a saddle or else the ride would have been an incredibly uncomfortable one.

"We'll ride until noon," Fynn said into her ear, causing her to start and Quall to dance to the side. "Then you'll ride with Fakhar."

Lianne rolled her eyes at the idea. Out of the three men Fakhar hated her most, that was obvious. She didn't trust any of them, but she felt that in Emil or Fynn's hands they would try to protect her. Fakhar would feed her to the wolves. She hadn't forgotten how he had wanted to leave her on the side of the road.

"Where are we going?" She asked quietly as the horses picked their way across the desert.

"Camp," Fynn said, seeming to think that simple answers were the best.

"Fine," Li murmured, winding her hands into Quall's mane even tighter. Her future laid in front of her life the desert, open and uncertain, without any road before her.

* * *

When the sun peaked in the middle of the sky, Fynn barely moved, but stopped the entire group with less than a hand motion. It was if they all shared the same thoughts. They had been traveling all morning without stop and Lianne was hungry, sore, and in need of a latrine.

"I have to go to the bathroom." She announced as they dismounted and Emil had grabbed her around the waist and plucked her off of the horse.

"And where would you like to go?" Emil asked bringing his arms up and waving them around.

Li peered around the area, feeling herself go red. Where would she go? There was nothing but flat land for miles.

"Just turn around and I'll walk that way." She declared and set off in the direction she had indicated.

"Wait," Fakhar grabbed for her but she dodged away.

"Where am I going to go? You have the horses and even if I did escape I have no doubt that I would die out here. Just give me a little time and turn about. I am still a lady and I have needs."

"Some lady," Fakhar snorted and busied himself with his saddle bags.

Fynn raised an eyebrow and stared at her, causing her to shiver. His sivler-greyeyes still unnerved her. It was much easier to be around him when she was riding in front of them.

"Fine, but don't stray." He turned away from her and began pulling food from his pack.

Li waited until all three men were busy before going to relieve herself. On her way back to the group she noticed how they moved in sync with one another, as if they had been companions for years. None of them spoke to one another, but they moved in a fluid line, unpacking food, cutting into cheese and bread, and giving the horses water.

Lianne shivered again and pulled the hood down further to shield her eyes from the sun. Something about the way that they would lock eyes briefly, then continue what they were doing before. It was almost as if they were communicating without speaking.

Emil handed her a hunk of break with cheese and a few strips of jerky with a grin. "Only the finest for a lady like yourself." He joked, squinting down at her from under his own hood.

Li accepted the food with a small smile of her own and chewed on one of the jerky strips thoughtfully.

"Oi, something on your mind?" Emil asked, popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.

"Just wondering why you're here." She answered honestly through the side of her mouth.

"Me? Well I'm needed here, as are these two." He jabbed a finger at his companions, who were standing together, whispering quietly.

"You're not Bazhir, though. You don't belong to the desert, do you? But here you are, dressed like a tribesman and riding a horse that obviously came from these hills."

"Huh, I guess you could find that quite interestin'." He swallowed his last bite of bread and dusted his hands on his pants. "But strange, isn't it, that you be doin' the same?"

Lianne reeled back. "But you aren't a captive, are you?"

"Not in the sense you're thinking of."

"Oh, well," She was about to ask him where he was from when Fynn's voice cut her off.

"Ready to go?" Fynn swept over, the horses following him like dogs that follow their master. "Mount up," He motioned to the horse that Fakhar was leading, who looking less than cheerful.

Emil sighed and threw her onto the horse when he saw she wasn't going to go willingly before the men jumped onto their own horses. Fakhar settled behind her with a sigh, letting her know he wasn't happy with this arrangement.

Lianne ignored the man and adjusted herself, tangling her hands in his mounts mane and feeling the horse shift under her. Thankfully this mare seemed to be much calmer than Quall had been.

"What is her name?" She asked feeling brave.

"Dart," Fakhar said, not giving her anything else.

She nodded and found a comfortable place that she wouldn't fall off and set her head towards the direction they had been going.

The ride to what the three men kept referring to as "camp" was long and grueling. In the mornings she would ride with Fynn, who would teach her new words from the tribe language and in the afternoons she would ride in silence with Fakhar. He still did not want her on this journey, but he had stopped suggesting that they leave her behind.

Lianne never saw the chance to make her escape. One of them was always watching her and at night she slept between Fynn and Emil when the all huddled together. The desert nights were nothing to joke about, and even if she left during that time she knew her chance to survive was slim. Her best chance was to stick with these men, even though she knew nothing of their destination.

* * *

Two weeks into their journey just after sunrise they crested the top of the hill, causing Lianne to gasp and Emil and Fakhar to sigh in relief.

"This is camp?" She asked quickly, her eyes searching the grounds wildly.

"It is," He replied, nudging his horse down the slope. "Teesha,"

"Pardon?" Lianne glanced back quickly before returning to the sight in front of her.

"Teesha. Camp."

"Oh, of course. Teesha." She repeated, glancing around the site.

Quall picked his way down the slope, followed by Fakhar's Dart and Emil's Scully. In front of them were at least forty sand-colored tents without any adornment and pickets that tethered horses outside each one. Judging by the number of horses on each picket, it looked as if each tent held four people and their belongings, which probably consisted of very little considering their living arrangements.

"What is this?" Lianne turned in the saddle to look at Fynn but his eyes were staring ahead, nodding to the men coming out of the tents. She realized with a slight chill that there wasn't one woman among the masses and tried to shove the panic down inside her.

Without answering her, Fynn swiftly dismounted and strode towards a group of men, leaving Lianne to fend for herself.

"This is Mae," Emil nodded up at her and held out his hand so she could slide down the big horse. "He's Fynn's new serving boy. I'd advise you to stay away. You know how he hates it when we break his things." He grinned wolfishly and sauntered towards one of the tents, motioning for her to follow.

Li slithered off the horse ungracefully and ran to catch up with Emil. "You told them I'm a boy!" She hissed, ducking her head and following like any servant would.

"You look like a boy. Have you not seen yourself? 'Sides, it's much better for you to be a man here than a woman. Loyal as they come most of these men are, but there happens to be one or two I wouldn't trust with my life, let alone yours, Princess."

"If I'm to be a boy you should stop calling me that. And don't they know Mae is a girl's name?"

"No, most of them barely speak anything other than Hillfolk language. For all they know Mae is a man's name." Fakhar had come up behind them and dropped in on their conversation.

"Oh," Li murmured, turning over this new information in her mind. "And of course I haven't seen myself. When has there been a mirror near? There's not even any water around." She shook her head, remembering Fynn pulling water from the air for them to fill their flasks. She had been raised in a city among a family full of gifted mages, but she had ever seen anything like that.

"Then we shall find you a mirror, young lad!" Emil crowed and led the way to what Li assumed was their tent.

The tent inside was larger than it looked and partitioned into two parts with a hanging cloth curtain. The one side held a low table surrounded by cushions and a large wash basin in the corner. The other side had sleeping mats laid in it.

"Mirror is by the tub," Emil motioned to the curtain and flopped down on one of the mats, stretching himself to his full length and closing his eyes. Fakhar followed him, but set himself down more gracefully than the giant had.

Lianne was tired, but sleep could wait in order to see herself. She pushed back the curtain and stepped through, ignoring the noise outside. She knelt next to the washtub and picked up the mirror that was leaning against it and drew it towards her. Staring back at her was a young boy with her light skin and black hair, cut around her ears as a page might wear it.

Lianne set the mirror down gently and pulled her legs up to her chest, rocking back on her heels. She did look like a boy, even to her own eyes.

_Don't worry,_ The voice popped into her ear. _This is just how everything is supposed to happen. You'll see soon enough. _


	4. Finding A Place

"Mae! Look at what you're doing, boy!" A harsh bark caught the attention of all the men, including Lianne who was among them. "Don't just stand there pick up that side and fold it up!"

Lianne looked down at the cloth in her hands and scowled as she struggled to lift it in front of her to meet Emil, who was grinning wickedly.

"Just a little further!" The large, sandy-haired man laughed as he held his side up with one hand.

Lianne could feel the sweat running down her temples and the heavy burlap scraping her palms, brutalizing the soft skin that had never seen much of a day's work. She used all her strength to drag the tent towards Emil and let go as soon as he had a hold on it.

"Good job," Emil winked. "And no worries abou' this, eh? You'll get used to us packing and moving so often. We never stay in one place long."

"Why not?" Lianne asked, turning over her hands and staring at the blisters that had popped up all over her fingers and palms. She had been roused from her sleep before dawn and hadn't had a chance to rest all morning.

"Keep moving, keep quiet, and keep ahead." He shrugged and rolled the burlap together before storing it in a pack that looked much too small to hold the shell of the tent.

"Emil," She began, but stopped as a group of rough-looking men passed them, leading their horses and carrying a pack that held all their worldly possessions. "What I am doing here?"

"Dunno, Princess." Emil shrugged tossed the sack over his shoulder along with his personal bag. "I only know that one day we didn' have you with us and then the next day we did. 'Why' isn't really something I'm too good at finding out." He began walking and Lianne struggled to keep up with him.

Mae trotted quietly next to Emil, pulling her burnoose up over her head to protect herself from the sun and from the looks the men from the camp were giving her.

"Everyone is staring at me," she whispered, ducking her head.

"Of course they are. To them you're just some lad we found and drug back to camp with us and didn' warn them or nothing. We don' just do that. The people who are here have been here for years. Nobody new comes unless they are family and usually there's a vote to let them in. Of course you just slid by that little ritual and not only did you not gain their respect but you're sleeping in our tent as a serving boy, which almost nobody here has heard of. You're new and interesting," he put a giant hand on her head and ruffled her hood and the short hair under it. "But sooner or later they'll realize that you're just another body as long as you pull your weight. Which isn' much by the look of you,"

"I hope its sooner." She murmured reverently, ignoring the quip about her stature.

Lianne had lain awake last night after Fynn had come back to the tent. He had not even glanced at her before laying down on one of the mats and closing his eyes.

Sleeping without being wedged in between Emil and Fynn felt weird, but it was unnecessary since the tent's walls would protect them from the worst of the cold. The three men had fallen asleep and she had stared at the tent's roof, wondering why they had taken her captive. The obvious choice would be because they knew her status and would offer a ransom for her, but it didn't seem likely as they believed her to be Mae Fetch, commoner and city dweller.

_Soon you will understand. Stay alive. _The voice that she had come accustomed to hearing had tried to whisper thoughts, but she had blocked it out and fallen asleep, knowing it would have time when it was light out to pick through her brain.

Li hurried beside Emil, trying to blend in amongst the mass of men that had begun to shuffle packs onto horses and climb up on their riding mounts. When they arrived at camp the day before, she had averaged around seventy men in the entire camp. She had clearly been mistaken. Over two-hundred men sat on horses or stood beside them, draped with burnooses and wicked-looking swords and daggers. There must have been another camp over the next hill to account for the extra bodies.

"Are there two camp sites?"

"Usually," Emil grunted, speaking out of the side of his mouth so nobody passing by could hear them. "We split up to ensure we aren' all taken by surprise. It's more useful than you could imagine."

"So many," Li murmured, trailing off as Fakhar approached them, leading three horses.

"There you two are." His face twisted as he looked at her, and she had a feeling if he was a dog he would have been snarling. "Fynn has been trying to find you all morning." He looked down at her as if it was her fault she had been told to help break down their tent.

"A thousand apologies," She murmured, scowling right back up at him, which quickly earned her a light thump on the head by Emil.

"Serving boys don't talk back, Mae." He chided gently.

Fakhar ignored them and handed the reins of two of the horses to Emil. Scully and Dart snorted as the man gave them each a good rub down their nose.

"This is Jez." He said, presenting her with the horse. "Her rider is no longer in need of her and she will carry you."

"Can't I just ride behind one of you?" Li asked, leaning away from his offering hand.

"Don't be daft. First off, it's not dignified, not to mention that if we were to encounter any footman or raiding parties that you in the saddle would hinder our ability to fight. Fynn or I could be slaughtered because you can't get on a blessed horse. We took a chance riding here with you; we won't be taking any more." He thrust the reins in her hands. "Saddle up and then come to the front. Fynn and I will wait there."

"Cheerful bastard, isn't he?" Emil grinned as Fakhar led his horse away. "Well no sense in wasting more time, up you goes!" He scooped her up by her legs and pitched her onto the new horse where she landed ungracefully.

Li froze where she was, draped over the quivering creature. She pressed her face into the mane and wished that she had practiced with the Queens Riders more. At least then she would know how to ride a horse and protect herself. If she had she wouldn't feel nearly as helpless as she did now.

"You have to sit up and take these." Emil commanded, drawing her gaze away from the mass of dappled grey horse under her.

He put the reins in her hands and tied them together so if she let go they wouldn't get in the way of the horses hooves.

"Right," She pulled herself up and adjusted her seat, hands shaking. "I can do this. I'll be fine." She settled into the saddle, finding it odd that there were no stirrups and gripped with her knees. She had always counted on Fynn and Fakhar to keep her astride, but now it was her responsibility.

"Of course you will. I have a bit of faith in you, and Fynn wouldn' have give you the beast if he didn' think you would be ready for it." Emil spoke as he secured the packs to the back of his saddle and sprung up onto Scully, using both hands to lever himself onto his horse.

"Teach me how to do that sometime, would you?" Li adjusted her grip and felt Jez shift under her.

"Of course, if you make it through today." He gave her a devilish grin. "Now let's go find our sand-loving friends, shall we?" He nudged his horse forward and cut his way through the crowd.

The men on horses parted to let them though, giving Emil a slight nod but staring down at her. Li tried to remember what Emil had said about not earning their respect, but it hadn't actually been her choice to come here like she did. She pulled herself up to her full height and tried to intimidate the way her mother looked when the stuffy nobles came to court.

A man who was beside them swung his horse around and knocked into her, causing Jez to scream and dance. Once Mae was able to get Jez to stop prancing she tore her hood from her head angrily, ready to tell the careless man off only to discover a hand gripping her wrist. She swallowed her words and found herself looking up into grey eyes.

"Think before you speak, Mae." Fynn suggested, keep a steady pressure on her wrist before dropping it.

Mae rubbed her wrist where he had grabbed it, but gave him a bow in the saddle.

Fynn scanned the crowd coolly and stopped on the man who had run his horse into hers, giving him a small shake with his head. The man broke away from the group and headed back towards where men were still gathering, glaring at her as he went.

"Let's move, then. We have some ground to cover before nightfall." Fynn urged his horse to the front of the group, followed by Fakhar and Emil.

Li trailed behind them, trying to make Jez follow Emil's horse at a reasonable distance, but it seemed like they were always too close or in danger of falling behind. The mass of men fell in behind them and four men rode beside her in the line behind Emil, Fakhar, and Fynn. She couldn't tell how old they were or what they might have been feeling as they kept their hoods up and never as much as glanced in her direction as they started to ride out.

Li fiddled with her own hood, glancing quickly behind her and to her right at the other riders. A lead weight was beginning to form in her stomach. It was no wonder Fakhar and Emil listened to what Fynn said; he was clearly the leader of this small army.

Panic filled her brain and she tried not to shake. She was in a predicament much different from what she had originally assumed and she had realized all too late what it was. Why would the leader of an army want her in his ranks? What purpose could she serve?

* * *

King Jonathon stood in his war council room, his face set in stone and beside him stood his Queen, showing no more emotion than her husband. The room was full of furious looks and worried eyes.

"It was like nothing I've ever felt before." The black haired man was standing along the wall, his head down, hands clasped in front of him. "We couldn't even sense them until they were right on us. They didn't want to fight us, just come in, take Lia-" Jasson looked up, his voice breaking over his sister's name, "Lianne and flee before we came to. I didn't see how many there were, I don't know what direction they went. You asked me to protect her and I failed to do so."

"Stop," The King commanded, holding up a hand to his son. "You did what you could." He glanced at the other men who had been with them, and to the Commanders of the Own, and the handful of Knights that were gathered there. "We must find her," He said quietly, his voice grave. "We don't know who they were, but we must follow every lead we have. I've seen magic like this one time, a long time ago…"

"It's something strange," Numair tapped a long finger against his chin as the smoky-haired woman beside him twisted her fingers nervously. "I can't trace it, but as soon as Lindall returns from Port Canyon we have a number of other ideas we can try."

"Keep trying. Look past Tortall. Look at our enemies, but look at our friends just as closely. I want her back here and I want her alive." He nodded to George and Miles, who slipped away from the meeting silently. "Start by combing the desert. Go find my daughter."

* * *

After riding all morning the man beside Lianne had finally grown bored enough to talk to her. He was Bazhir and young, probably the age of a man who was newly-knighted in Tortall, and had a wicked smile that never seemed to leave his face.

"Mae, right?" He directed his horse closer to hers and gave her a once-over. "That's an interesting name. What did your father think about naming you that?"

"My father?" Li choked out, holding back the flood of emotion behind that word. She had barely let herself think of her family.

"Ah, I see. Left your family, did he? Don't worry about it. Most of us in this group are cast-offs of sorts." He waved his hand around. "My name doesn't sound good in commoner language, so just call me Rahim."

"If you don't mind me asking," Mae mumbled, careful to keep her voice lower than she normally did. "What do you call all of this?"

"Ah our lovely band of mongrels? I don't know what you would call it. Outcasts? Travelers? We don't belong to anyone and call the entire desert our home."

"You don't have houses?"

He chuckled. "No, of course not. We move around, so there's no point in building a house. We almost never camp the same place twice."

"Don't give away all our secrets, Rahim." The man on his other side peeked over. "I am Hazzen, his caretaker." He nodded and then continued to stare out over his horses' withers, scanning the horizon.

Li looked over at the other man curiously. He was the only one other than her that did not carry a sword or bow across his back. He was tall and lanky, lacking the muscle and grace that Rahim possessed.

"Ignore him," Rahim suggested. "He's the best healer we have and it gets to his head. He likes to think he's some noble-bred scholar or something but I' fairly sure our father was a petty thief."

"You're brothers?" Li studied the two faces and only saw Bazhir features that could have been similar, but mostly they looked nothing alike.

"Different mothers," Hazzen offered, trying to explain why they were so different.

"You don't say,"

"I just did." Hazzen looked fairly confused and Rahim roared with laughter.

"I like you, small man. Even if you do have an odd name," Rahim clapped a hand on her shoulder.

Li could feel her cheeks flush and looked down quickly as Fynn turned in his saddle and stared at her, his face blank and unmoving. When she looked back up he was facing forward again, but she couldn't shake the feeling that somehow she had upset him. Did he not want her to speak to anyone else?

They traveled slower than they had when they had been riding to the camp, and they swayed in different directions upon what seemed to be the mood of the row in front of them. Before breaking for lunch they had been headed east, but now they were edging towards the north.

Li paid their path little mind and chatted with the men close to her, learning their names and what their basic jobs were. It turned out that Rahim was the equivalent of a commander, as were a number of the other men, and Hazzen was the healer who had two apprentices that were stuck somewhere towards the back of the line. By the time they broke out the dried meat and cheese for lunch, she had become well acquainted with the men beside her and a few behind her.

Rahim was also a natural horseman, and helped her to learn what certain signals one could use to control a trained hill horse. She steered with her knees and kept a slight pressure on the reins. It would take practice, but after a few hours in the saddle Jez was not nearly the beast she had seemed earlier.

If only Dani could see her now.

The sun was making its way back into the hills and the Li found that the desert did not play by the same rules as Tortall when it came to nightfall. Li huddled into her burnoose, tucking the long cloak around her legs and shifting around on Jez liked a small child given their first pony. Jez flicked an ear back and pranced, not understand what Li wanted of her. The girl leaned down towards the horse and gave the giant neck a pat, assuring her that the only thing she wanted was a place to lie down, and preferably by a nice warm fire.

"We've been riding in circles." Fakhar said, breaking the tension that had been brewing in the first row.

"Don't you think I know that?" Fynn snarled, causing the ranks behind them to fall silent.

"I want to know what we're doing." The rows of men behind her began to shift and Li could hear whispers catch across the wind.

"I don't understand it," Fynn swung down from his saddle, holding a hand out to stop anyone else from dismounting. "I've never been confused before." He spoke so quietly that Li had to strain to hear him.

Emil dropped off the back of his horse with as much grace as a large cat and stepped towards Fynn. Fakhar was a breath behind him as they walked towards their leader.

"It's muddled," Fynn grumbled walking forward into the sand and staring across the planes of sand that seemed endless. "It can't make up its mind!"

Li realized that they were speaking commoner, not the Hill folk language that she had been trying to learn. Perhaps they were trying to have a discussion that not as many of the men would understand.

"I need the gi- the boy." Fynn muttered. "There's something different. The sand won't talk to me."

Li sucked in a quick breath that had nothing to do with the cold. Grey eyes glowed silver in the darkness and she knew that nothing human could possess those eyes. Humans also didn't talk to sand.

Emil glanced up at her, his eyes completely empty of any emotion. "Mae, could you come here?"

Rahim held her reins and she slid down Jez's back, holding onto the saddle as long as she could as her knees locked at buckled under her.

"No worries, lad." He nodded at her. "I'll watch your lady Jez."

Li nodded up at the man and stepped out towards the group, her heart beating in her throat.

"I'm not doing anything," She whispered quietly when she stood in front of them. "I don't have the Gift or anything either. Not one bit of it."

"You don't have the gift?"Fynn looked confused for a second then cleared his head. "No, of course you don't have the gift. You have Life."


End file.
